I’m feeling delicate today, not so much in the physical sense but very much in the emotional sense, since Magpie’s death I’ve been very much keeping myself busy with my policy work for TA, arranging the next meeting for our TS support group here in the West Midlands, blogging and trying to be strong for Magpie’s husband who understandably is devastated losing his wife of 25 years. I’ve been trying my best to hold it together but I have had times when it has been impossible to hide my grief and the floodgates have opened. This has been happening quite suddenly when I thought I was OK and coping. Much to my embarrassment it’s been happening in public places, in the pub in London on Thursday, on the Train home from London on Thursday and earlier today in the village shop. I’ve found it quite difficult this week to keep on top of my Habit Reversal Training, it can take a lot of effort to intervene when I have the urge to do a tic and do the competing response.
It was supposed to be the end of the world yesterday; J (Magpie’s husband) was quite despondent when I stopped by on the way home from the shop, telling me that he wished that the world had ended because life feels meaningless and empty now. Despite her long illness I still expect her to let herself in via the kitchen door “Cooee, it’s me” with a roll up in her hand popping round for a chat and a cuppa. I’ve let things slip on the domestic front, I have a huge, mountainous pile of dirty laundry and there’s dust and cobwebs everywhere. These tasks seem insurmountable at the moment but there will be a time soon when we’ve run out of clean underwear. Her funeral has been arranged, I want to be there to say goodbye, not the “see you later” that I left her with last Tuesday. It will be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
